


Pearls Before Swine

by KoreArabin



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Gags, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-16 17:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18526624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoreArabin/pseuds/KoreArabin
Summary: And so, as he again recalls how Goodsir stood before him, refusing to obey him,defyinghim, he decides that the good doctor is most definitely in need of being taken down a peg or two.





	1. Chapter 1

"Does that really work with anyone, Mr Hickey?"

It still rankles, that Goodsir saw through him so easily and, effectively, mocked him as he was doing so. Hickey’s comment itself had been a fair assessment, even if the sentiment behind it was not, concealing as it did an ulterior motive. Goodsir _is_ a kind and generous man - far too so, to Hickey's way of thinking. Far too quick to rush in to help, all bleeding hearts and sympathy, far too good a do-gooder for his own good.

What also rankles, perhaps even more, is that Goodsir has proved himself to be made of fair sterner stuff than Hickey anticipated. His refusal to dismember Billy, until his hand was forced by the threat of Hodgson's torture, is another surprise, and one which affects Hickey more than he could have anticipated. He was genuinely perplexed at Goodsir's refusal to prioritise his principles over his opportunities for survival. To a man whose entire life has been a constant struggle for mere subsistence, indulging one's morals over one's practicals is exactly that - an indulgence, a _luxury_ which only those who have never wanted for anything may entertain.

And yet there is also a part of Hickey which recognises the rightness of Goodsir's refusal. Hickey is far too intelligent a man not to acknowledge morality and courage when he encounters it, even if he despises it. Yes, he does despise it but, at the same time, feels that void inside himself where such qualities should be. He is a man made to be a leader of men in extremis but, at the same time, completely bereft of the attributes such a man should properly possess.

And so, as he again recalls how Goodsir stood before him, refusing to obey him, _defying_ him, he decides that the good doctor is most definitely in need of being taken down a peg or two.


	2. Chapter 2

Des Voeux will be the one to assist him, initially, in his subjugation of Goodsir. Des Voeux has made his disgust at Goodsir's pandering to the Esqui witch very clear, and he has a vicious streak within him which Hickey is sure will not baulk at defiling the good doctor.

"Mr Des Voeux. A word with you, if you please."

Des Voeux is up and with him in his tent immediately, away from the possibly more tender sensibilities of their mates in desertion. "Mr Hickey? How may I be of service to you?"

Hickey smirks his weasel smirk. "To the point immediately, Mr Des Voeux. My estimation of you was well-founded, then?"

He could laugh aloud, witnessing Des Voeux almost literally swelling with pride. Anyone, _anyone_ may be manipulated with the merest words of praise.

"Mr Goodsir thinks himself above the rest of us. He refuses to assist in our struggles for survival. He will not join with us in our sacrifice..." here Hickey pauses, as if in deep melancholy, "...our sacrifice, our hesitancy, in what - in what we have to do to survive. He judges us, we who have been forced to this extremity by no fault of ours."

Des Voeux nods. "'e's always thought 'imself better than us. He thinks more of that Esqui bitch than 'is own people. What do you want me to do?"

"He needs to learn his place. Are you following me, Mr Des Voeux?"

"You mean - "

"Yes. He needs to be laid low. A bitch must know its place."

Des Voeux smiles. "A change of diet can mean a change of potency, if you get my meaning. And I'll be glad to loose it on that fucking lah-di-dah doctor."

"Come with me, Mr Des Voeux."

~~~

Goodsir is rummaging in his medicine chest when they enter his tent. He stands, stiffening immediately and eyeing Hickey with distaste. Hickey sits, as Des Voeux blocks the tent entrance.

"Goodsir."

"Yes, _Mr_ Hickey?"

Ignoring the sarcasm in Goodsir's response, Hickey smiles up at him. "Goodsir. Other than butchering your fellow crew members to be served up for supper, what is your function here?"

"Setting aside the fact that I was forced to do so, under threat of a man's torture, I am here as your doctor. Here by duress, I should add."

Hickey nods, his brow knotted in contemplation. "Yes, of course. Our doctor. Well, _doctor_ , how many of us have you cured on our travels so far? Torrington, Hartnell and Braine - not much curing there, eh? Or young Davey Young? Died frightened out of his wits, I heard. And all of us, like poor Billy, as have died since. For a doctor, you haven't been much help to any of them, have you?"

Hickey sees the exact moment Goodsir curls in on himself, in distress and guilt at Hickey's words, even though both of them knows that Goodsir did everything in his power to help all of those who have died, and that no-one could have saved them. Yet, Goodsir is a good, compassionate man, and failure to him is failure, even if Hippocrates himself could have done nothing more.

"But, Goodsir, you can have a function - one which will raise the morale of us here, and will finally make a use of you. Mr Des Voeux."

Goodsir cries out in pain and shock as Des Voeux punches him hard in the solar plexus, then follows with a savage uppercut to his jaw. Sprawled on the floor, curled in on himself in a foetal embrace, Goodsir struggles for breath at Hickey's next words.

"Strip him."


	3. Chapter 3

Goodsir doesn’t look up as Des Voeux circles the tent, before standing directly in front of him, towering over him as he gasps for breath on the floor. 

"Look at me."

Goodsir shakes his head in mute defiance, keeping his eyes closed, cradling his bruised midriff. Des Voeux is seized by a sudden anger, a desire to make the other man react. He wants to see, in Goodsir's eyes, that he acknowledges his situation. That their circumstances have utterly changed since he was forced to stand guard over the Esqui bitch and listen to Goodsir mooning over her like a lovesick calf. He needs Goodsir to acknowledge that, now Hickey's in control, Des Voeux can do anything, _anything_ he wants to him. He wants to see that Goodsir _fears_ him.

He kicks Goodsir's side and then his hip. Goodsir grunts in pain, twisting on the floor, trying to present as small a target of himself as he can. Des Voeux grabs a handful of thick sable curls and heaves Goodsir up to his knees, wincing and crying out in pain as the doctor manages to bring his leg round and slam his heel into Des Voeux's shin.

"You fucking little shit. On your knees and keep still. Mr Hickey's given an order and you're to be stripped. I don't care whether you do it yourself or whether I 'ave to slice the clothes off you, but you're going to get bare-arsed for us."

Goodsir keeps fighting, clawing at Des Voeux's arm as his grasp tightens on his hair. Des Voeux aims kicks at any part of Goodsir he can reach, but the doctor's deceptively strong. Hickey, until this point sat back in his chair taking in the scene with his habitual air of benign but troubled tolerance, decides to intervene. Twisting one of Goodsir's arms behind his back, he forces it up viciously, until Goodsir shouts in pain.

"Now, now, doctor. Calm down and behave yourself." 

Between them they secure Goodsir's wrists together tightly with a length of rope, bringing the end of it up to loop around his neck, fashioning something of a harness with which to control Goodsir, being able to simultaneously pull his arms up awkwardly behind his back and choke him if he tries to fight them. Which he does when Hickey takes out his knife and calmly begins to slice through the back of Goodsir's jacket, whilst Des Voeux tugs steadily on the rope connecting his wrists and throat.


End file.
